The Irish Had It Right
by Cszemis
Summary: Courtesy of Cszemis and BroflovskiFan. See Stan drink. See Kyle drink. See Stan and Kyle cope with drinking.


Title: The Irish Had it Right

Synopsis: (Courtesy of Cszemis and BroflovskiFan.) See Stan drink. See Kyle drink. See Stan and Kyle cope with drinking.

Cszemis here. LOL this is just a bit of fun that was created out of a little alcohol (hiccup) and too much speculating about our Style Boys. This is a little preview into a story that BroflovskiFan and I hope to write soon with the boys at University. Be warned, our future story is looking to be perhaps the most uncliched Style story ever. You'll need to be sitting down to read it! Are you sitting down? Are you? (hiccup)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"STAAAAN!" Kyle roared across the small bedroom space that was Stan's dorm room.

"JESUS CHRIST YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOUT!" Stan roared back, clutching his hands to his ears, one of them holding a beer bottle.

"STOP SHOUTING!" Kyle shouted, trying to cover his own ears but missing them entirely, clutching his cheeks instead.

"You are shouting!" Stan yelled back, beginning to snort and giggle into his beer. "You're shouting my name."

Kyle growled and his head flopped forward a little as he still held his cheeks, the beer dripping out of the bottle and all over his pants. The boys were celebrating their first week at University, away from parents and away from everyone else. And after kicking out Stan's roommate, the boys had gone on a major drinking binge and were at the point that amusingly tipsy ended and nausea began.

Stan was laughing, leaning against the bed, his long legs spread out in front of him. "You were yelling like we were having sex." He sat up straighter, his eyes wide and eager. "Dude we should have sex!"

"I'm straight," Kyle argued and waved his bottle haphazardly in the air. "See? I drink beer and everything!"

"Gay guys drink beer too!" Stan exclaimed, taking a huge swig out of his beer bottle, half of it spilling down his front.

"Stop wasting it!" Kyle screamed when he saw the mess Stan had made, beginning to panic. "And no gay people don't," Kyle began yelling again, unaware of how loud he really was, "they drink Bacardi or something."

"GIRLS drink Bacardi!" Stan retorted loudly and slouched back down. "Gay guys drink appletinis and that sort of shit!"

"I like appletinis," Kyle said in a small voice, sniffing and resting his head against Stan's shoulder.

"WHAT?" Stan screamed, jumping away from his friend. Well, attempting to jump away. Stan lost his balance halfway up and fell over, hitting his head on the side of the desk, starting up another fit of laughter.

"AH! That fucking HURTS!" He screamed out.

"Dude, you're such a gay retard," Kyle giggled and started sliding towards the floor.

"At least I don't drink homo-tinis!" He defended himself.

"Hey, you're just jealous because my appletinis get a small candy at the bottom from the cute waitress." Kyle ran a hand through his hair as he lay on his side, finding it the most wonderful and softest thing in the world.

Stan eyed Kyle's behavior curiously, unaware that when he had fallen he had cut open his head a tiny bit and it was beginning to drip down his face. "Dude, stop groping your head."

"But my hair is hot!" Kyle groaned in his inebriated state.

"Hot in temperature or hot in sexy?"

"My hair is the colour of fire!" Kyle argued, getting up and wobbling on one foot, "and it makes people fah-laming!"

"YOU'RE flaming, assrammer!" Stan shouted from his place on the floor.

"Last time I checked you wanted your ass rammed!" Kyle started looking for his phone, snorting in amusement that Stan had fallen over and could not get back up. "I gotta get a picture of your bruise."

Kyle could not find his phone but he took a closer look at Stan's head and gasped, "Dude, you're like bleeding."

Kyle smoothed back Stan's hair, checking out the very small cut on Stan's head from where he fell. "Oh God! You're bleeding! Don't die Stan! Don't die!"

"Fuck! I'm bleeding?" Stan exclaimed, panicked. "Holy shit! Oh no, oh fuck. Kyle? KYLE? Don't let me die! Am I going to die Kyle? Oh FUCK!"

Kyle grabbed the back of Stan's head and held him close to his chest, so much so that Stan could barely breathe. "I won't let you die. If I hold on tight enough then Heaven will have to take me too!"

"Dude I can't breathe!" Stan cried out, flailing his arms. "Am I going to die? OH MY GOD I'M BLEEDING INTO MY LUNGS!"

"No! No! No!" Kyle tried in vain to stop the tiny cut from bleeding, "the blood will just drip into your brain and make you stupid."

"OH MY GOD!" Stan cried out, on the verge of tears. "I don't want to go through life being a dumbass!"

"Yeah you're like smart," Kyle ran his fingers through Stan's hair, once again admiring the feeling of strands of hair, "not as smart as me but I am the genius."

"I'm ten times smarter than you."

"Nuh uh! I'm like a THOUSAND times smarter than you!"

"I'm smarter than you times infinity!"

"I'm smarter than you like infinity to the power of infinity!" Kyle slurred his retort, "and you'll never beat that ass rammer man."

"YOU'RE an assrammer!" Stan cleverly retorted. He then proceeded to lift the beer bottle to his lips, disappointed when nothing came out. "FUCK! Kyle, where's the beer? I need another."

"You drank it all stupid!" Kyle hid his bottle behind his back, looking around the room innocently so Stan could never drink the rest of his beer. It was not exactly at threat from Stan but Kyle was not taking any chances.

"FUCK!" Stan exclaimed again, getting frustrated. "We need more beer dude! Shit! Are you sure there isn't any?" Stan then proceeded to rifle through their increasingly large pile of empty bottles.

"We need to buy some more," Kyle half waddled around the room in search of beer, having drunk a little more than Stan. At some point he had stolen Stan's glasses and was bumping into things and then glaring at the objects like it was a crime that they had dared get in his way. Stan's glasses were askew on Kyle's face and he was beginning to look creepily like his cousin Kyle.

"Alright, but where's my fake ID?" Stan asked, looking through his blurred vision at the mess of debris on the ground. "And dude, give me my glasses back."

"But I'm not wearing your glasses," Kyle fumed and tripped over one of Stan's shoes.

"You totally are! I can SEE them on your face!" Stan stumbled towards Kyle, attempting to swipe the glasses off of his nose. He outstretched his arm too far, ending up gripping Kyle in a semi-strangulation hold.

Kyle began choking and tried to pull away, swatting Stan on the head with his hands. "But if you're not wearing them then how can you see them on my face?"

"I... I just can!" Stan replied, trying to understand this himself. "I can see a LITTLE bit! My eyes aren't broken all the way!"

"Yes they are! Like your head!" Kyle suddenly felt panicked in his drunken state, "Oh my God you're dying!"

But instead of coming to Stan's rescue he fell on the ground with a moan. The glasses fell from his face and Kyle held them up triumphantly "Found 'em! See I told you I wasn't wearing them."

"GOOD! Now give ''em here!" Stan ripped them from Kyle's hands and shoved them back on his face, one of the nose pads hitting him in the eye. His eye began to water as he cried out in pain. "AHHH! Dude, a bird just flew in my eye!"

Kyle picked up one of the empty bottles of beer and waved it at Stan's eye, "Come on little birdie! Don't break Stan's eyes anymore than they are already broken!"

Seeing the bewildered expression on Stan's face Kyle told him "Birds like beer!"

"No they don't. They like milk, or some shit like that. But I think it's gone anyways now, my eye doesn't hurt anymore."

"Because I trapped the bird in my bottle," Kyle declared triumphantly. "I saved your life! And now it's time to set it free."

Kyle staggered to Stan's window and opened it, throwing the bottle it into the darkness below. There was a smashing sound that echoed all around the neighborhood, "Bye-bye birdie."

Upon hearing the words 'saved your life', Stan's eyes widened. "Shit dude! My head!" Stan partially ran, partially tripped over to the bathroom mirror to see the damage for himself.

"AHHHH oh my god!" He screamed melodramatically when he saw the tiny trickle of blood running down the side of his face.

"Staaan!" Kyle called out, looking blankly around the room, confused as to why Stan had disappeared. "Oh my God," Kyle burst into tears, the full force of his drinking binge hitting him, "They killed Stan. You bastards! And he's been taken to Heaven without me!"

It never occurred to Kyle to look for Stan.

Stan vaguely heard some shouting and sobbing coming from his bedroom. "KYLE!" Stan screamed at the top of his lungs. "Come and help me! I'm bleeding to death all over the sink! I need stitches or like... "Stan grew excited as an idea came to him, "A PLUG! KYLE we can use the bathtub plug to plug the hole in my head up!"

"But you're in Heaven!" Kyle yelled back.

"No I'm not, not yet anyways!" Stan screamed back. He blinked, confused at his landscape. "Actually, I don't know where I am. It's all white and bright in here though. FUCK Kyle, am I DEAD?"

"Don't go into the light!" Kyle called out throughout the dorm room. "If you go into the light," his voice echoed through time and space, or more accurately the tiny little apartment, waking people in rooms nearby, "then you'll die!"

"I can't help it! It's all around me!" Stan cried out, frantic. He collapsed onto the bathroom tile, sobbing hysterically. "I don't want to die yet Kyle! I haven't even been laid yet!"

"I have but it sucked!" Kyle tried to pinpoint where the voice came from. "Maybe there's like a temporal time wall and I can get you!"

He staggered towards the door and examined it, staring at it in amazement. "Woah there is like a hole in the wall!"

Kyle put up his hands like a man walking blind, not trusting that he wouldn't just simply bump into the hidden wall when he got closer, feeling nothing but air and slight nausea as he went through the time wall.

"Are you walking through it?" Stan asked between sobs. "Can - you - Ky - le? Sa- ave muh - ee?" Stan swiped at his face, wiping some of the blood off onto his sleeves. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I'm still bleeding Kyle!"

Kyle walked into the bathroom and embraced Stan. "Oh I found you! You're here! Ok you're dead right now but the time wall can bring you back!"

Stan clutched onto Kyle's shoulders, his sobbing starting up all over again. "Oh my God. Kyle you found me! You f-f-found me. I love you dude, I love you so much! Just like the power of my love knows no bounds! It's like... the UNIVERSE. It NEVER ends! EVER!"

Kyle sobbed too, clutching Stan tightly in his arms "but the longer I hold you here the more I die!" he sobbed pitifully.

"We've got to get out of here Kyle!" Stan cried, stretching his fingers out, trying to touch the walls. "Kyle, how'd you get in here?"

"There was a hole!" Kyle tried vainly to find it and ended up walking into the shower instead.

Stan followed closely behind his friend, ending up in the shower too.

"We're trapped in a box Kyle!" Stan exclaimed, somehow becoming even more hysterical. Vision blurred through alcohol and tears, he felt around, his fingers eventually grazing something. "Wait, I found a knob..."

"Stan..." Kyle blinked and began to feel a little more sober, "That's not a knob. Ow! Don't squeeze the knob!" Kyle began to whimper.

Stan looked down to where his hand was grabbing. "Shit sorry dude!" He exclaimed, wiping his contaminated hand on his pants. He felt around again, finally touching something metal.

"Ky, I found something..." he started to say, jerking the metal thing. The boys were immediately attacked by a cold rain from hell.

"This just fucking great!" Kyle yelled in anger. "We're trapped in a box. Some demon grabbed my crotch and now I'm all wet! Why oh why did I drink?" Kyle asked the universe. "It's bad. It's very, very bad!"

"Kyle, relax!" Stan said, grabbing Kyle's shoulders and shaking him far more viciously than he had intended. "We'll find a way out of here, like we always do. This is like a cage, and all cages have locks... Kyle do you see a key anywhere?"

"No I see rain. Rain, and rain, and rain. Why is it raining in a cage?" An idea struck Kyle as he spoke and his face contorted in anger. "Cartman must have created this cage!"

"THAT BASTARD!" Stan cried out, his head filling up with rage. "I'm going to KILL that fat asshole!" Stan searched around the shower for something, anything that would get them out. His hand clasped around a bottle of shampoo.

"Dude we have to get out of here," Kyle shivered, totally soaked to the skin, "When my hair gets wet it goes frizzy. It's just curly right now because of my special L'Oreal shampoo but if we don't escape my hair will go crazy! Crazy I tell ya!" Kyle grabbed Stan desperately.

"I have a plan!" Stan tried to calm his friend down. "See this?" Stan held up the bottle of shampoo. "This is a lead brick from Pluto. It's harder than even steel. If we slam it against the walls one of them HAS to fall down."

Kyle gasped. "That is like the best idea ever! I know why Cartman trapped us here. He knows that if my hair goes frizzy I lose all my powers and he can win. But your mighty lead brick will defeat his plans!"

"That's right!" Stan announced triumphantly. He gripped the bottle tightly, slamming it against the shower wall to no avail. He slid around Kyle, hitting the other two walls. On the fourth try he gathered up all of his force and slammed his hand hard against the shower door. It flew open, hitting the toilet with a loud bang. The door immediately came off its' hinges, falling to the floor where the glass promptly shattered.

"We're free!" Kyle jumped out onto the broken glass, forgetting that he wore no shoes. He screamed in pain when a couple of shards dug into his feet and he fell over in the direction of the door, just missing impaling himself on other glass shards by mere inches.

"Goddammit Cartman! He's put big spikes to stop us from escaping! The spikes have got me! Stan! You have to save me! You have shoes! The spiky lava won't hurt you if you have shoes!"

Stan tried to balance himself against the shower wall. "The hell rain will transform me into a soulless demon if I don't escape soon! I'm coming for you Kyle!"

Stan staggered out of the shower, picked up the shorter boy and dragged himself out of the bathroom.

Kyle wondered if he was dying when he suddenly found himself as light as a feather and soaring back into Stan's room, wondering if an angel was carrying him. Stan set his friend down gently on his bed and promptly sat on the end, examining Kyle's feet.

"Dude, you've got like tiny spikes stuck in your feet, I hafta get them out, or else they'll poison your pancreas."

"Don't let them poison my pancreas!" Kyle called out, "Please help me angel Stan. Don't let me die. Don't let Cartman kill me! We've defeated all his plans but he still got me."

Kyle felt a lot of burning and trickling pain in his feet.

"Don't worry my Kyle! I won't let you die!" Stan said, trying to stop himself from crying. "I won't EVER let my super best friend die!"

Stan examined his friend's feet even more closely. "It's actually only a few pieces dude, let me pull them out."

Stan grabbed the largest one, probably the size of his fingernail, and pulled as hard and as fast as he could.

"Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" Kyle cried out and bucked against the bed, lifting his hips and screaming as Stan pulled the glass from his foot

"It's okay Ky! That's the biggest piece, so the worst is over! Don't scream," he tried to comfort his friend, putting the piece of glass on his bedside table. He immediately rushed around to Kyle's side, wrapping his arms around him. "It's okay Ky, that was the worst piece," he slurred soothingly.

"Oh Stan! In the middle of that pain I thought I was going to die, you saved my life," Kyle touched Stan's face and nearly poked him in the eye, "You were there and saved me!"

"You're not saved yet Ky, there's still a few small pieces I need to get out" Stan left Kyle's side and went back to his feet, pulling the pieces out as fast as he could. "You're bleeding a little Ky, we need to get bandages or something."

"No we need to get my phone so we can give Cartman a damn good thrashing!"

"But Kyle! Your feet! You're going to bleed to death before you get to talk to Cartman!"

Kyle felt around for his phone, wincing as Stan removed the other bits of glass, "I have strength enough to face him."

"'Kay, all done now," Stan said, inspecting his friend's feet. "Now we can go beat the shit out of Cartman."

"We must find where he is! That fat ass will be around somewhere!" The fat ass was actually studying in Boulder at the University of Colorado, not Denver like where Stan and Kyle had ended up so there was absolutely no chance that Cartman would be anywhere near Stan's dorm.

The boys split up, searching through Stan's small room for the huge blob that was Cartman. After a while, Stan frowned. "Any luck Kyle?"

"No. His fat ass must be camouflaged! But I found my phone!" Kyle held it up triumphantly, "And I think if we call him we will hear his ring tone and we can follow the sound."

"Your cell phone? Do you have his phone number?" Stan scratched the back of his head. His vision was becoming slightly clearer at this point.

"Yeah I kept his number so I could yell at him if I was stressed. He's like a phone bag, a punch bag I can yell at."

"Okay, call him then! I want to hear why he did all that shit to us!" Stan suddenly felt a sharp pang in his stomach. He brought his hand up to his mouth. "Fuck dude, I'm gonna hurl..."

As Stan went running back into "Heaven" Kyle peered blankly at his screen before he realised that the phone was not even switched on. Fumbling he turned it on and found the phone number, calling the person he loved to hate.

"Cartman! Cartman! Yeah it's Kyle! How dare you trap me in a cage and attack me with spiky lava! You know what Cartman! I hate you! I hate you! I hate your fat! I hate your hair! I hate the way you talk with a stupid voice! You just piss me off! How dare you even phone me? Don't change the subject! Why would I call you? You're an asshole! Yeah well fuck you too! I don't need to listen to your crap!

"You attack me with glass and demon rain and I hate you!" Kyle yelled into the phone. "Cartman in all seriousness. You need to sit down because I have to tell you something. Are you sitting down? You're gonna need a pad and a pen cause this is so majorly important! No don't go back to bed! This is like life changing news. Are you sitting down? Are you sitting on your big fat ass?

"Cartman... this is my important news, you sitting down? You gotta sit down. Ok? Right. Anyway… Cartman... I am drunk!"

Kyle broke down into drunken giggles until Wendy pulled the phone off of Cartman, "Hey bitch, put Cartman back on."

"Kyle?" A wavering voice came from the bathroom. "Gimme the phone, I want to yell at Cartman too!"

"No I'm not talking to you Wendy," Kyle argued with her, "Put Cartman back on. And just a second Stan, your ex is being a bitch"

"Wendy? What's she doing with Cartman?" Stan hiccupped, followed by more sounds of retching. "Goddammit the fat ass poisoned me!"

"Laid?" Kyle was paying more attention to Wendy and was getting increasingly frustrated, "You're getting laid? Well guess what Wendy. I don't give two fucks. I am drunk and I'm entitled to your attention. So stop screwing and put Cartman back on!"

In his outrage Kyle yelled through to the bathroom and nearly deafened Wendy on the end of the line, "She's having sex with Cartman!" Kyle shouted to his best friend.

"WHA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?" Stan's scream was loud enough for Wendy to hear on the phone. "KYLE, give me the phone! I'm going to kill Cartman!"

"Well Wendy… Shut up Stan I can't hear! Listen Wendy, I can't even think enough to figure out how exactly you'd screw Cartman! And it doesn't matter because you poisoned my best friend and Cartman attacked my feet!"

"Kyle! Kyle! Kyle! Ph-" Stan's last words were cut off as another wave of nausea hit the boy.

"So... Wendy. Are you gonna fuck with me on the phone or do I need to come into the phone and smack your bitch up?"

"Kyyyyyleeeee," Stan moaned from the other room. "I doooon't feeel so gooood... Ima getttttin' dizzy..."

"Wendy you have to help me rescue Stan!" Kyle stumbled into the bathroom still holding the phone. "You might need to call 911. Do you know the number for 911? I do but you're stupid."

Stan glanced up at Kyle through blearily eyes. "Kyyyy-" he rested his head on the toilet bowl, which was emitting a foul stench. "Iiii... I'm..."

"Stan, don't die!" Kyle dropped on his knees beside Stan, "See Wendy this is why you need to help. Stan is dying because you poisoned him. And I can't live without him. Oh hey Cartman. Get Wendy to give me the antidote. NO! Don't you dare hang up on me fat ass!"

"Ky...el..." Stan started to say, and then his face paled. He retched all over Kyle's front, nearly toppling into his own mess.

"Gah!" Kyle jumped back, covered in Stan's sick, "Dude that's sick!"

There was a faint dialing tone in his ear as Cartman hung up on him but he couldn't figure out what the noise meant

"I need the fucking antidote!" Kyle yelled into the cut off phone, picking at the bits of sick on his top.

"Braugh-" was the last sound Stan managed to make before toppling forwards onto the ground of the bathroom floor, altogether losing consciousness.

"No! For the love of Moses! No!" Kyle tried to peel Stan off of the floor desperately, "Wake up Stan Wake up, don't leave me alone!"

Stan's body flopped in Kyle's arms, completely passed out.

Kyle stood up, puddles of sick dripping from his top onto the floor and Stan's hair. Kyle grabbed one of Stan's arms and tried to pull him back into Stan's room, thinking that if getting out of heaven made Stan live the last time it would work this time too

He dragged Stan through the puddle of sick and into the bedroom.

"Don't worry Stan It's gonna be ok. You're just gonna smell really bad."

After he pulled Stan back into his room he tried vainly to put him into the Bacchus position and when Stan almost looked right, Kyle moved away and peeled off his top, the smell beginning to turn his stomach.

Kyle threw the top into the corner and huddled next to Stan to conserve Stan's body heat

"It's okay Stan, you'll be okay," Kyle murmured to Stan's unconscious body before falling asleep himself.

When Stan awoke the next day, his head felt as though it had been split open with a knife.

"Ughhhhh, I need pills..." Stan moaned before he was even aware that he was awake.

He was half lying over Kyle, his head on the Jewish young man's bare chest. Stan was not sure if his head was pounding but he could hear a gentle thump-de-thump as Kyle's chest rose and fell with each breath.

Kyle moaned painfully in his sleep as the alcohol ravaged his poor, fragile senses and Stan blinked a couple of times expecting him to wake up. His own head was incredibly painful and he could not bear the thought of moving. Of course that meant he was stuck where he was, snuggled next to his best friend.

There was a horrible sickly smell and it tried to make Stan's weak stomach empty itself again but there was nothing left and he painfully retched a little. He could faintly hear the sound of dripping water, almost like a rain storm and Stan reflected that he was best staying where he was and not face the rain. Hours later he would be horrified to find the shower was on but right now he did not know that.

He would also find it hard to explain why the shower door was in pieces and why half of the bathroom was covered in sick. Stan had no idea either why Kyle had his top off either but he had such a hangover that it did not occur to him to feel unsettled or concerned in case they had got physical. Kyle would wonder why his phone bill was impressively massive and why his hair was particularly frizzy for the rest of the day.

There's a saying that alcohol was invented to stop the Irish from taking over the world. Considering its effect on Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski, there was no chance in hell they would be able to take over the world either.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Please review. It makes the drinking binges all the more joyful... free drink to everyone who reviews. (hiccup)


End file.
